Clarity on the Ski Hill (Part 1) – Fear and Risk
How do I come to be starting a new business and launching a blog?
It goes back to winter…
One evening in winter, I find myself standing at the base of the ski hill. The trees are cut out against the dark sky and the only sounds are the swish of skis and the grind of the rope tow. It is so peaceful and I have time to think.
My four favorite people in the world go up the chair lift, waving down to me. My ankle keeps me grounded.
Someone asked me recently where was the woman who took risks? I looked at her, puzzled. When did I ever take risks? I was a cautious child who grew up to be a cautious adult. When she pointed out the things I’ve done in the past: moved across the country to attend grad school, moved to Eastern Europe to work with a non-profit organization, I had to re-think myself.
So why I am so fearful of doing this new thing? Standing in the snow, grasping my mug of tea, I ponder. If I can learn to downhill ski as an adult (oh the lucky ones who learn before they know there is anything to fear), if I can fall and get back up and try again, why can I not take another risk and try something new?
We fall, we get hurt and we pull back because it stings. Pain holds us back from experiencing a fuller life. Unless we can lean into it, learn from it, and dare risk being hurt again.
I learned to ski because of my family, so we could all ski together. I can be brave and dare to do something new. Not because of me, but because of the God that is in me.
My boy is teaching his younger sister to ski backwards, patiently giving pointers. The stars twinkle, the night is quiet, and I know it is time to take courage.